


Forgive and Forget

by Razzmayy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Bellatrix survived, Dragons, F/M, Mentor Bellatrix, Not Canon Compliant, United States ministry of magic, dragon trainer Charlie Weasley, fourth wizarding war, ilvernmorny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razzmayy/pseuds/Razzmayy
Summary: It's two years into the fourth great wizarding war, 40 years after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort. Amma, a former Auror in the United States, is avoiding the conflict of war when she is approach by her past chief. He requests her to use her unique skills to train and defeat the dragon army in the East lead by Emperor Chang. While she refuses at first, she is told about the survival of a past flame working with Emperor Chang. The pain and sorrow of the past compels Amma to agree and seek out a past great witch to train.
Relationships: OFC/Charlie Weasley's Grandson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Forgive and Forget

It was summer, a time of year Amma despised as she slept with damp sheets plastered to her front, AC blasting, and fans turned on high. She was dreaming unpleasantly when her phone blared next to her head. 

“What the FUCK,” she answered without noticing the caller ID. “Agent Amma, this is your Chief. Rise and shine sweetheart.” 

Amma’s heart plummeted as her Chief’s voice did nothing to quell the adrenaline pumping in her chest. The last time she heard from him was at her celebratory dinner 5 years ago where she received the purple heart currently stashed in her bedroom closet. Fucking fuck… she glanced at her alarm and saw it was 10:21am. 

“What can I do for you, Chief?” she said astutely. He was a good man and leader after all, and he took care of Amma as she made her exit from being an Auror; he earned her respect long ago. The promise to not let anything happen to her continued to this day. She had a feeling that it may be changing. 

“Listen Amma, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need you to report to the field office at noon.” 

“With all due respect, what for, Chief?” 

“There’s an assignment and I need you to be a part of it.” Amma froze thinking of her past self jumping at the chance to be in a mission and suddenly saddened. 

“I don’t think I can be of any help, Chief. You know, therapy only did so much to regain any motion in my left arm. I’m practically a walking gimp without it.” 

“Hush, Amma. You know better than to think like that,” he scolded her as though a father would making her heart lighten. “Just get your ass over here by noon or they’ll have to therapy my boot out of your ass!” The line went dead. 

Stumbling out of bed, Amma rushed to shower and appropriately groom herself placing her long brown hair into a neat bun. It’s an old habit hanging on through good ole muscle memory. Looking in the mirror and ignoring the sharp edge of agitation rising in her chest, she has a sudden thought. Tentatively walking to her bed, she kneels down and reaches for the dragon scaled box withholding a past friend. She mutters the incantation beneath her “alohamora.” CLICK. The impenetrable scales slink away from the opening of the box. Inside sleeps a birch fire wand with a sting from a dragons heart nestled in the body. There is a distinct chip in the lower lefthand handle that makes Amma fight past memories. She grabs the wand and shoves it in her bag. 

After choking down a brunch of wheat toast laced with peanut butter, she hops in her beat-to-shit car and heads south to her old base in New York. 

Traffic’s a bitch as she creeps through the Big Apple honking at anyone and everyone within 6 feet of her. “What could it be?” she worries out loud eyeing the clock and controlling her breath. 

She finally arrives and parks in the back of the lot just past the security gate. It’s where the press, newbies, and outsiders park. “I am an outsider,” she reminds herself in a desperately convincing thought. She repeats this thought until she reaches the inner bowels of the building past security and down the long, winding hallways. At conference room number 364, she knocks and is promptly met by an old comrade who quickly ushers her in. 

“AM! You bitch, where have you been? Drying out in some dusty old cabin up north? Living the good no-mag life?” Petri announces bounding his arms around her. It feels immediately familiar. 

Lightly chuckling and hugging him back, “I’ve been around, Pet. Why didn’t you ever come see me? And where is everyone?” Amma states looking around the empty room. 

“Ah, well you know the Chief. He likes to make an entrance,” he states cheekily ignoring her former question. Suddenly, the door swings open and the chief followed by an entourage of 5 cadets follow into the room. Rookies looking for some action with large puppy dog eyes by the looks of it. 

“Amma! Glad you finally made it, kid. You know, you probably would have been on time if you used the floo system. Tell me you at least took the back way in? ” he asks pointedly. “Everybody, this is Agent Amma. She is a veteran Auror from our downtown NYC unit. She is highly decorated and the creator of the glacias spell from her time at Illvermory.” Oohs and ahhs ripple throughout the room. 

Eye downcast, “I like driving. It’s a different experience,” she stammers “why am I here, Chief?” 

“Well, take a seat, you’re not going to like this.” She places herself in the office chair adjacent to the chair the chief is simultaneously sitting in and she stares him in the eyes signaling him to get on with it. “We’ve received word on General Chang. She’s overthrown Germany. Burnt an entire country to the ground. Our intelligence state that her and that dragon turned the place to ashes within an hour. And that’s not all,” his voice dropping “Thoman was seen with her.” Amma’s chest drops to the bottom of her stomach and she can’t help the strangled wheeze that escapes her mouth. 

She knew he was gone and assumed he had a part in her injury. She hoped the rumors weren’t true, that his promises to her were real. But this confirms it. He betrayed her. Left her to die. After everything. 

Quickly composing herself, “what do you want me to do about it?” she asks as the room is eerily quiet. 

“Come on, kid. Don’t act like that. I know you care. Hell, my guess is ya even loved the guy.” Infuriated, Amma repeats herself in an obviously strained tone “what do you want me to do about it?”

“We need your skills. No one is trained like you. Glacias is the only spell proven to cease a dragons flame, and no one can do it like you,” he cajoles rather diplomatically. “Bullshit,” Amma responds calmly “others have been trained. Use one of them. Plus, I’m not useful to anyone with this useless arm.” Getting up to walk out, Petri grabs her good arm and says “Amma, they’re all dead. They’ve all died over the last five years since you’ve been out.” 

“How?” she asks not wanting to believe it.

“Left over injuries mostly. Loose shrapnel traveled to Misty’s heart and Jahr’s brain. Litha suicided herself.”

“Fuck. I-I di-didn’t know,” she stammers “I’m sorry, Pet.” He grimaces and looks at her “Look, we wouldn’t be asking you to help if we thought we had any other options.” 

Guilt. Fucking guilt. And shame for running away and not dealing with her shit. Those were the only things coursing through her as she tormented herself into saying “Fine, what are the orders?” 

Relief spread across Petri’s face as the Chief gave a curt nod and continued, “You know glacias better than anyone. However, there is one thing missing. An oversight from the previous mission,” he states looking around the room “that spell is close to useless when a dragon can fly thousands of feet in the air and still rain down hellfire on innocents. We need you to learn to fly.”

“I have a broom buried in my garage somewhere,” she remarks in a snarky tone. “Brooms catch fire and they failed in field testing. No, what we need is a method of flying that makes your body transform into smoke as you flit around controlling you destination.” 

“You can’t be serious! The last time someone flew using the fumus method was in the last wizarding war. Voldemort and his cronies. You want me to learn that shit? How?” she replies quizzically. 

“You’re facts are a bit off. The history books say only Voldemort and Severus Snape knew the fumus. But not even history got it right,” he proclaims ominously “There is one other and you are going to seek her out and train with her.” 

“As a prisoner of war under strict surveillance, we know exactly where she resides, and she’s even expecting you. Our branch sent the notification via owl a week ago, so you just have to waltz up to her door.” 

“Sounds like you guys had way more confidence in me saying yes to this shit than I did. Cocky bastards,” Amma remarks with a smirk on her face. 

“While you’re learning, Petri and I will be here training these agents to use glacias. When you’re done, we will be ready to head East. We anticipate her to advance on Britian within the next few weeks,” he proclaims marking his fingers across the table. 

Fine, if this is what needs to happen to get rid of her guilt, then fine. Maybe she’ll get lucky and won’t survive the attack. “So what is this mystical witch’s name?” she asks rubbing her right eye in exasperation. 

“Bellatrix LeStrange.” 

......................................................................................................................................... 

Sitting on her throne of ashes in the serene Munich, General Chang admires her handy work. She was able to decimate an entire country in a single afternoon. Both Jrakmiath and her were growing stronger by the day. Their bond firming and communication sharpening; they’ve fallen into the void of trust, power, and rage. Blinded by fury. She hated this land and all that it stood for. The years of oppression staining her past and the lives of her elders will no longer haunt her as she erases the oppressors. She enjoyed watching them challenge her and then scream for mercy as Jrakmiath seared their skin to their body entrapping their anguish until they perished. 

Interrupting her thoughts, Thoman clears his throat and approaches her cautiously. “Don’t be afraid, darling. Jrakmiath is sleeping,” she smirks looking over her shoulder at the still mass of blackness breathing steadily in contented sleep “besides, he would never hurt you,” she says coyly. “No, my love, you mistake my cautiousness for fear. I simply dread making a stupid mistake,” he states side-eyeing the dragon. 

“Come here, baby. Let me see your scars,” she croons crooking her pointer finger his way. Lifting his shirt and marching to her, he reveals deep burns marring his torso and arms. “Ah! They’re the most beautiful art pieces I’ve ever seen!” she squeals running her hands deliberately over the hills and valleys of his skin. He slightly cringes and automatically stills his breath hoping she didn’t catch his mistake. Backing away, she frowns and states “Tomorrow you will train Jrakmiath for double the length,” moving back to her throne “make him sharper in the turns and more obedient in his quickness. I expect results by the end of tomorrow, Weasley.” He openly recoils at the severe use of his estranged last name. 

“I plan to continue my conquest West near the end of the month. In the meantime, Jrakmiath and I must improve our connection. It will be critical in my invasion of Britain. Those loathsome Hogwartz bafoons won’t come close to counteracting my Jrakmiath.” Dropping her voice she nearly whispers “I trust you will do right by me.” 

Of course he would. 

........................................................................................................................................

Amma stepped out of the taxi that dropped her off on the edge of a forest somewhere in Maine. She should have paid more attention as to where she was, but she was having a hard time focusing on anything but Him. He’s alive, she repeats in her minds getting her hopes up for the hundredth time and then immediately squashing the hope for the hundredth and one time. Left arm lifelessly tucked into her side and a single bag in the other, she walked through the forest. 

She trekked through the forest ground for what had to be no more than 15 minutes before spotting smoke rising approximately ten yards away. Quickening her pace, she made her way to the suddenly appearing cottage. It was dingy and dank looking, as if no one had touched it in hundreds of year. “Well, maybe it’s a crack house,” she chortles to herself as she makes her way into the clearing. Upon entering, she hear a loud CRACK and something wraps around her legs. She’s rocketed straight to her face and tries to catch herself with her single arm. Maneuvering quickly, she rolls to left side, avoiding injury and pulls out the wand shoved in her long boot. The hard wire wrapped around her legs free when she incants “redacto.” She soothingly rubs her legs and surveys the clearing and cottage. Not a movement. 

Gingerly, she stands and tentatively continues a light pace toward the cottage avoiding an divots or oddly shaped rocks. After making it to the door without further incident, she knocks on the door. 

Nothing. 

She knocks again. Still nothing. 

This time, she tries the handle and the door freely swings open. There is a table dead center in the dusty cottage with a fire roaring in the hearth. Something smells good. Taking one step inside, a hand grabs her shoulder “What do you think you’re doing?” a creaking voice asks. Turning quickly, she exasperates “I’m looking for Bellatrix LeStrange.” She’s met with a figure about a foot shorter wrapped in dark muslin. The women has wiry, white hair in the shape of a wasp’s nest place on her head. Her eyes are sunken and her posture reeks of hard times and loneliness. 

“OOOoooOOh a guest! How exciting!” she exclaims pushing past Amma into the cottage, “Did old Albus send you to remove the watchers?” eyes moving shiftily back and forth. 

“What, ma’am? No, I’m here beca—“ 

Stopping mid gate and turning, “You’re here to steal my stew! Well, get out! I won’t have it!” she yells as she rockets a dirty spoon at Amma before rushing over to the boiling pot.

Holy shit this bat is whacked, Amma thinks as she attempts to calm Bellatrix. “No, no you have me all wrong. I’m here because I need you to teach me how to fly.” 

Mid lurch, Bellatrix freezes as if stopped by an unseeable hand. “What did you say?” she breathes. 

“To teach me how to fl—“ 

“GEEET OUUTTTTT!” Bellatrix screeches as she runs toward Amma with all her frail mite. Amma easily dodges the advance and slips further into the cottage. “Look, lady, I don’t want to be here either but I know you were notified about this. I don’t really think you have a choice.”

Breathing raggedy, Bellatrix twists a smile at Amma “Fine, if that’s how it’s going to be then I’ll do it under one condition.” 

“What’s that?” Amma entertains. 

“You have to dual me and win.” 

Easy potatoes. This bird is off her rocker and Amma just dodged a not-so-subtle but fairly mighty attack from the old woman. If she wants to play with the young fighter to remember her youth, who is Amma to stand in her way? Plus if this will get her to agree quicker, she is all game. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.” She places the bag she’s been carrying on the floor of the cottage and walks back out into the clearing. A couple yards from the how, Amma pulls the wand from her boot and turns expectantly to Bellatrix who followed her out. Separated by half a dozen yards from Amma, Bellatrix yells, “Bow.” “What?” Amma asks shocked at the request. People stopped bowing before duals decades ago. “I said BOW!” Bellatrix booms in her scratchy voice. Amma promptly bows while she keeps her eyes on the folded woman. 

They both pause a moment and resume their upright positions. After a breath of a moment, Bellatrix bellows “IMPERIO!” Amma jumps to her right shocked at the use of an unforgivable. She hasn’t heard of anyone using the unforgivable curses, except in exceedingly seedy and heinous black market deals, since the war. It is unheard of, yet this old haggard bitch launches her arm forward shouting “IMPERIO” again. This time, Amma narrowly escapes the blast, but it hits a tree and cracks it. Amma returns fire shouting “IMPEDIMENTA” as Bellatrix blocks the spell. She hasn’t moved from her spot in the clearing. Amma, on the over hand, continues to bob and weave quickly remembering her auror training and hardly noticing the lifeless appendage strapped to her body as Bellatrix continues her onslaught of unforgivables. After a few more “imperios,” Bellatrix escalates to “AVADA KEDAVRA!” Amma fires “protego” just in the knick of time. This has gone too far. 

“Listen you crazy bitch,” Amma shouts stomping toward Bellatrix, “I’m done with this bullshit. If you want me dead, I’ll just lea — .” Bellatrix cackles as she casts her favorite spell: “CRUCIO!” It hits Amma square in the chest. She drops immediately to the ground and the searing white noise rakes through her body in intensifying waves. Pain, pure misery and torture, sweeps through her body at an unrelenting pace. It’s worse than any pain she’s ever felt. Though, as fast as it started, it stops. Amma is left shaking on the ground gagging on her own screams. 

“Ahhh, I’ve missed that!” Bellatrix exclaims as she shuffles over to Amma’s twisted body and bends slightly to help her up. Amma rips her right arm away from Bellatrix with fear and hatred seething in her eyes. “YEEEeeeessSSSS! That’s the look I’ve been craving. It’s like a salve to my broken soul.” Bellatrix cackles even louder as Amma struggles to get back on her feet. 

“Don’t worry, deary, I’ll teach you how to fly. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a pet to play with.” Amma shudders at the proclamation. “Now get inside, the stew is done!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter in a potential fanfiction. Let me know if you like it and want to see more in the comments!!


End file.
